


Velvet Goldmine

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is content living in Ahburg, mainly because it’s small and cozy. He gets away with shit because he’s Geoff’s favorite, and they’re like a family or something. It’s nice.</p><p>That all changes when two nomads decide to settle down for a respite from their travels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velvet Goldmine

**Author's Note:**

> pls dont expect romance or penis touching, this is a srs story about frIENDSHIP AND ADVENTURE  
> also on my [ tumblr](http://tastefulstridercest.tumblr.com/post/48982739685/title-velvet-goldmine-1-10-fandom)

The chill of dewed grass pushing up wet between your toes is a feeling that can’t be beat.

Michael knows that if Geoff caught him out here on the hill, getting his pants wet while he watched the sun rise, that Geoff would shit all over him for enjoying himself. He only got up so early to feed the livestock and check the beer barrels. Those were Michael’s chores, and the sooner he got them out of the way, the sooner he could enjoy some peace before the old fucks woke up. They didn’t wake up until the chickens started going insane, so he had maybe a few minutes before he had to go grab his bag and meet them at the gate.

Geoff had a visit to the Nether planned, and hell if Michael wasn’t all for it. Nothing was more fun than bringing your axe down on a Wither Skeleton’s head so damn hard that you couldn’t get it back out after the thing’d collapsed into a heap of slimy bones.

Michael plucked a leaf of clover from the ground, grinding the thin stem between his nails. Maybe they’d get lucky and find some quartz. Jack was wanting an upgrade to his shitty wooden stairs. They creaked so bad that Michael could hear them from his kitchen for chrissakes, so he’d for sure help out with some mining.

A door slammed somewhere in Ahburg, startling him so bad he nearly pissed his already wet trousers.

“Ffffuuuuuuck,” he hissed.

He scrambled up, hoping he could make it to his back door before anyone came in the front. The clover was tossed down as he started up a (hopefully) silent jog.

Michael slipped in quietly, cuss words breezing through his mind. He didn’t slow down except to grab his bag and bearskin, throwing them both on while he ran outside.

Jack was stretching on his dilapidated porch, hairy belly bare for Michael to ogle disgustedly.

“Hey put some fuckin’ clothes on Jack, you’re gonna make all us other guys jealous!” he yelled good-naturedly. He was actually just relieved that it wasn’t Geoff come to terrorize them all with his excitement and ‘plans’. The man was a genius, but Michael wished he’d slow the fuck down sometimes. Geoff was a great Chief, but he still got ahead of himself trying to keep all of his boys occupied.

Jack was too busy enjoying the heat of the morning sun to do much more than wave Michael off. The old veteran miner skritched at his beard and watched the Great Bearkiller wander vaguely in the direction of the ponds near Geoff’s monolithic temple.

\---

There were nearly one hundred fish in these tiny ponds. Michael had once been so bored that he had counted them. It had taken more than one try, and he’d never gotten an exact number, but he didn’t exactly give a shit. He’s tossing flecks of greasy jerky to them in between big bites. Watching them squabble over the tough meat, he doesn’t hear Geoff, and is surprised by the massive hand that comes down onto his fur-clad shoulder.

“FUCKING SHIT, Geoff, what the fuck man?!” He doesn’t quite shout it, but the fish scatter anyways.

Geoff just smiles. He’s raised Michael, been with the man since before he was the Great Bearkiller, back when his arms could barely lift his now famed diamond axe. 

“You ready to go? Everyone’s waiting,” Geoff says. He’s calm, eyes serene - Michael’s only ninety percent sure the man hasn’t been drinking. The Chief likes to start early.

“Everyone?” He shrugs Geoff’s arm off and starts walking towards the portal, offering the man some breakfast. Geoff tries to take a small chunk of jerky, but Michael hastily forces it into the man’s gloved hand.

“Yeah, me you Ryan and Jack, right?” He’s not chewing much before talking. Michael grunts.

“What’s Ryan out here for?”

“C’mon now, you know he’s a welcome member to Ahburg. He stayed over last night in the vacant house. I’m surprised you didn’t see him…?”

Michael goes on the defensive. “I was kinda busy, okay? You’re the one who gave me chores to do at the assfuck of dawn.” 

“Jack said you came out here to mope,” Geoff teases.

“Yeah, well.” Michael’s nose is wrinkled. “Jack’s a gossip. So’re you, I guess.”

Geoff shrugs, not denying it. He thumbs the last bite of jerky past his chapped lips right as they break through the trees to the small clearing where the portal is. He shoulders the enchanted bow Ryan hands him, and turns to the group every inch an imposing leader ready to dole out commands. 

“Alright, so we’re going to be mining, mostly. Jack wants to do some redecorating. You all know the rules, except Ryan. Ryan, call out and then clear the fuck out if you see a Ghast. Keep your bucket of water at your hip at all times…”

“Don’t mine more than fourteen blocks away from someone,” Jack cuts in.

“Leave the Zombie Pigmen alone for fuck’s sake,” Michael says, eying Jack. It’s not even an inside joke, Jack is just stupid as fuck when he’s facing down new mobs.

“What?! I didn’t know they’d gang up on us like that!”

“Michael get off the dick and get your loose ass in this portal!” Geoff’s voice is cracking because he wants to laugh. Michael salutes neatly and struts in, patting Ryan’s arm roughly on his way by in camaraderie. Even if he’s not a permanent resident of the ‘Burg, they’ve got his back. The guy looks nervous, but Michael guesses he has every right to be. They’re going to Hell, after all.

\--- 

Geoff’s fourteen to the right of Jack, and Ryan’s fourteen to the left of Jack. Michael’s close to Ryan, and they’re all mining to each side of their corridors, creating windows where they can see each other. Or at least sort of - it’s a little hard with all of this smog and smoke.

They’re finding quite a bit of quartz, and Jack’s keen ears haven’t picked up any mob cries yet, but Geoff still calls it quits after three hours.

“Food,” he says, gruff and covered in bits of netherrack. The grit sticks to them all, clinging to their sweat. They wipe their hands as best they can and pass around bread, pie, and chicken. Michael had wanted steak, but they were running low. Jack would go on a cattle run before the rainy season hit, maybe bring a fresh herd home if they were lucky, but for now they had to stick with what they had.

After their hard work, it was good. Even though he could see the dirt on them, Michael licked his fingers clean when he was done.

“Gross!” Geoff laughed, but immediately stuck his own fingers in his mouth.

Michael ignored him, turning to Ryan. The man had been pretty silent aside from a bit of banter while mining.

“Still nervous?” he asked.

Ryan looked up from his bucket, water or sweat on his upper lip, which poked out. “Uh, not really?”

“Ah c’mon, it’s okay. You’ve got Mogar around, no need to be a puss.” Michael flexed subtly.

“Oh, Great Bearkiller! Protect our virtue!” Jack cried between fits of laughter.

Geoff was wheezing into his bucket.

“Are you kidding me? Michael you really milk this ‘town warrior’ thing for all it’s worth,” he said when he could finally breathe. Not that any of them gave a shit - especially since Michael had damn well earned his title.

Affronted, Michael stood and threw his few burnt bread crusts at Geoff, cussing the Chief out as he stalked back to his mine.

“Aw, Mogaaaar, you know you’re my favorite!” Geoff called to him. His reply was a graceful bird flying over Michael’s ginger curls.

\---

He’d been down in the mines too long. Breathed too much of these god damned fumes. That was the only explanation. 

“Hey Geoff?”

Michael stood in between a netherrack cliff and a steep ravine, watching the rose attentively. It was just lying there, wilted by the heat but still reasonably fresh.

Geoff came running up, his grungy chainmail clanking against the inside of his armor.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Do you see this shit?!” Michael pointed to the flower. He didn’t mean to sound accusing, but he was confused and he fucking hated being confused.

“Uh. Did Jack or Ryan drop it?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe an Enderman brought it in.” Michael hoped not.

“We’re too far from the portal, that doesn’t make any sense?”

“Well why don’t you pull an explanation outta your ass Geoff. There’s a god damn rose laying in the Nether! Jesus fucking CHRIST there’s aNOTHER ONE.” Michael held his arms out in the direction of the next rose. It was maybe ten blocks away, and he thought he could see another further along.

“What the FUCK,” he yelled, frustrated. It wasn’t unusual to come across other people in the Nether, or sometimes the torches or old tools they left, but ROSES?!

“Looks like some kind of trail,” Geoff muttered. “What kind of idiot would leave a trail of roses lying around?”

“I’m gonna follow it,” Michael decided, already starting on his way. “I’m going to find them and hit them, maybe steal their shit. Dumbass. Teach ‘em a lesson.” He was actually more curious than furious at this point, but he’d probably go through with his threat anyways. Possibly he’d even push the culprit in a pool of lava and laugh at them when they respawned, lost, trail of roses useless.

“Hey wait!” Geoff called. “Let me get Jack and Ryan first! Get back here you little shit!”

Michael was climbing the short hill by then, being careful not to slide into the ravine where lava waited.

“Shut the fuck up, Geoff, geez!”

The roses led over the hill and up the side of another hill. His hands were gloved, but the netherrack still stung them with heat as he clasped onto it, pulling himself up. Whoever had climbed this had probably used rope, but had been wise enough to take it with them. ‘Unlike their fucking flowers,’ Michael scoffed to himself.

When he finally reached the peak, he could still see the ground well enough. It was maybe as high as a great oak, nothing too intimidating. Pretty good vantage point, though. This was proved when Michael looked over his shoulder and spotted three vague figures coming towards him through the thin smog. Geoff’s shiny gold visor was a dead giveaway.

Turning back to face forward, Michael caught his breath. There was nothing but thin walkways of netherrack stretching into a sea of lava for as far as he could see. Anyone passing through this place had to be batshit fucking insane. Judging by the continuing trail of roses, Michael was sure their culprit was exactly that. 

In the distance, he thinks he sees a flash of bright green.


End file.
